


Day 1 - Dragons

by etanunu



Series: Zutara Week 2016 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Renaissance Faires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etanunu/pseuds/etanunu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zutara Week – Day 1: Dragons</p><p>Modern AU: I knew you in high school and I ran into you at a renaissance faire wearing full knight regalia</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 1 - Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry ahead of time for any spelling or grammar errors, I cranked this all out today and I really didn't want to miss the first day of Zutara week. Also, sorry for any renaissance faire inaccuracies I did my best with this piece and though I'm really happy with it I know it's far from perfect.

When she and her brother were kids, they always played pretend.

Sokka would grab a fake sword; sometimes a toy made of plastic or foam, sometimes a stick, sometimes a pencil; and pretend he was a brave and powerful knight. He'd battle dragons, ogres, evil witches, and zombies. With his sword raised high above his head and a battle cry he'd charge forward and defeat the evil creature. When he got super into Star Wars it was a light saber and he battled all of the First Order single-handedly.

Every time, her brother would bravely triumph over the villains and she would cheer because that's what she was supposed to do. No matter how much she fought him on it, he never let her be a jedi, a brave knight, a soldier, or a pirate. She was the princess most of the time, waiting to be saved by the greatest hero to ever live—his words not hers. If she was lucky she'd get to be the bad guy for a change and fight. But bad guys never win.

Katara would love to say that she grew past these feelings of inadequacy. She'd love to say that she grew far past the need to prove she was just as brave and strong as her brother with or without a sword. But it's a bit difficult to say these things when her first summer after high school, she's joined the local renaissance faire to squire under one of the knights. Her Grampakku had finally caved.

What made everything even better was that Sokka had never gotten Grampakku to cave the last ten years he'd asked to be his squire.

She'd finally won.

That's the mantra Katara had to repeat over and over again when she found out that an squire mostly polished things, helped carry things around, and ran any errands that had to be done whether it came from Grampakku or not.

Currently she was at the forge getting Master Pakku's new armor. Which meant she mostly sat in a hot, stuffy space counting strands of hay on the ground as “The Boulder” went on and on about his work and his glory days as a boxer during his teenage years before he was injured pretty badly by a blind warrior. “Ther Boulder-rrrr,” the man had a weird need to elongate and emphasize his nickname as he spoke, “nearly had 'em too. But this kid was a-a-a wizard! Or something. Slipped right through The Boulder's fists like a ghost, I tell you.”

“Wow. Sounds like an unfair fight.” Katara knew her voice didn't convey interest, but bet the man's ego would completely miss it completely.

He wasn't even pretending to work anymore. Shirtless as always, minus the apron he wore, the man's muscles flexed almost on their own as he told his tale. “And that's exactly what The Boulder told the judges!”

Her eyebrows furrowed at that. The last time she heard this story The Boulder said he'd been in a coma for a week that ruined his career after a sneak attack from his blind opponent. “Wait. Before or after the hospital?”

“Huh?” The man stopped short, even pulling back from leaning toward her as he spoke. His eyes looked around quickly. As if he no longer had time for another long tale, he turned and scurried over to the back. “What was it that you were picking up again?”

Katara rolled her eyes and peeked outside as the others set up their stations for tomorrow. “Armor.”

Chong and his nomadic musicians were moving about the place carelessly, playing songs for anyone who would spare them a glance from their work. The fortuneteller, Aunt Wu had Poi and Ping dragging her crates behind her toward the direction of the entrance. The woman caught Katara's gaze and gave her a sly wink that broke her elegant and serene mask. The place was bustling with energy and family. Katara and Grampakku had already been here for a week to set up but her favorite day of the faire was always the day before. Everything felt warm and energized.

Even if Katara felt like her talent was being wasted on chores, she'd rather be here than back home worrying about college with Sokka.

She had just caught a quick look at someone who could only be Master Iroh when loud clanking metal made Katara turn back to face the smith. The Boulder grinned brightly at her as he waved a hand at his masterpiece. Tui and La circled each other on the breastplate. Her step-grandfather's go-to sigil. “The Boulder hopes you brought a good trunk with you.”

X X X X X X

Moving the trunk Master Pakku had given her for the armor was a lot more difficult the second time around. It took her a lot longer than she had anticipated to move everything to his trailer. She could have said yes when Haru offered to help, but Katara was too proud for that. By the time she made it to the trailer, she fell asleep while taking a breather on a chair.

When she woke up the small trailer felt dusty and creaky despite its pristine condition in the dark. Loud voices and music were the only comfort she had as her mind adjusted to reality. Suddenly panic welled up in her throat as she realized what those sounds meant. “The feast!”

Grampakku had asked her to get the armor ready and polished before the feast so he could teach Bato a lesson. His exact words had been, “I'll show that ridiculous uncle of yours what the difference in quality is from a real smith and not one of his ridiculous internet auctions. I'll do it in front of the entire camp. Heavens know that most of them are more invested in Internet forums and role-playing than the genuine article.”

She disagreed with him there, like on so many other things, but Katara knew it was just the old man's way of being as specific as possible about his millennial prejudices so they would sound reasonably prejudiced.

There was no time to polish the armor anymore. She probably already missed the king's grand speech. Katara stood and opened the door first before lifting the trunk. Ignoring the burning in her arms, she focused on her breathing and balance as she made the trek to the large outdoor dining area at the center of the fairgrounds.

When she finally arrived she leaned against the edge of the trunk as she scanned the crowd for Master Pakku. The Boulder was nearby getting drunk with some of the knights, but he wasn't among that group. Iroh was near the back flirting with one of the game attendants, a new girl named June, who was far too young for him. Aang, one of the younger kids, was sneaking food into his jacket. Zuko was—Zuko?

Katara squealed and dove behind the trunk in a flash.

She peeked around the edge, ignoring Poi and Ping's stares, to make sure she was right.

Sitting at Iroh's table, but definitely separate, a young man with a scar on his left eye was staring intently at a cup of tea. It had been two years since the guy graduated high school and other than longer hair he looked exactly the same. Perfect posture, a sigh in his shoulders, and an unapproachable air about him. The last time she saw him was during his and Sokka's graduation. The time before that, she had just broken up with Jet, her mother had died, and he'd caught her crying under the bleachers.

And now he was here.

Katara did the only rational and mature thing available to her at the moment. She ran to a dark corner, put on the armor, and continued her search for Master Pakku.

This time, it didn't take too long. Despite nearly tripping over the slightly large armor. Her master sat in a corner near Song's bar playing a game of pai sho with Master Piandao. The two men glanced at the armor and turned back to their game nonchalantly. With the helmet blinding her slightly and the dim orange lighting of the venue, she missed their amused smirks.

“Katara, I presume?” Master Piandao spoke first.

“Yes,” she answered. Tapping into her courage, Katara lifted her chin proudly.

What she could only guess was the man's head bobbed up and down in a nod of recognition.

Master Pakku must have made his move because the sound of a piece slapping the wooden board made her turn her head. “The Boulder may be loud, but he makes great armor,” he said conversationally. “I do wish you'd had the time to polish the armor, my dear.”

Katara felt the words like bricks on her shoulders. The man's reprimands were always short but cutting. “Sorry, Master Pakku.”

“Come now, Katara. It's a party.” This time she could hear the laughter in her family's voice. “We can drop the formalities.”

If she weren't wearing armor Katara would tuck her hair behind her ear at that moment. “Right, sorry. Grampakku.” Right now she could only be grateful he wasn't angry with her for wearing his armor.

“Pakku, don't you wish to know why your dear granddaughter is wearing your armor?”

If the man weren't older and such a respected member of the community Katara would have hit him.

Grampakku just chuckled and stood up. His hand reached over and removed the helmet from her head. Her hair frizzed around her face. Some strands must have pulled out of her braid when she hurried to put everything on. “I will ask tomorrow.” The words were a promise that she wasn't going to be let off easy. However, for now she was forgiven. “I imagine your answer will distract me from the rest of my game?”

A blush creeped up her neck. “Probably.”

He nodded and looked past her shoulder for a moment before looking her in the eyes again. “Have you had dinner yet?” She shook her head. “Take a seat and eat. I'll go look for your uncle in the meantime.”

One metal hand reached out for her elbow as Katara nodded. She wanted to say more but she was still very aware of the fact that Zuko was somewhere behind her and could notice her.

Piandao stood from his seat and helped her get settled, giving her helpful suggestions on how to hold her body so she wouldn't slip out of her chair. Not two seconds later, Song came over with a soft giggle and placed a plate of food for Katara. “Pakku may get upset if you get a dent in that armor while trying to wrestle food away from—“

“Katara?”

She didn't get a chance to find out who the girl was about to mention when the hairs on her neck stood on end.

Her head squng around before she could stop herself. “Um, hi.” She blinked up at golden eyes, which seemed to fit the night more than she ever thought he could. “Zuko.” Her plan to avoid the boy had lasted all of five minutes and she somehow managed to embarrass herself far more than she had intially anticipated.

“I—“ His eyes were wide, insecure.

It reminded her so much of that day under the bleachers her chest hurt. The day she stopped seeing him as the rich jerk who couldn't go a day without trying to prove he was better than she and her family. Katara had gone two years trying to forget that glimmer of light he'd shown her, burying him under pity and the hateful image she'd had of him before.

Master Piandao cleared his throat. Breaking away from those eyes, Katara looked back at her grandfather's friend and blushed again. He looked at her like a game of pai sho. As if he could use strategy and skill to read her emotions.

“Master Piandao,” she said, “this is Zuko. We went to high school together.”

The man's calculating didn't stop as he gave the scarred boy a once-over. He didn't outstretch his hand as he spoke. “A pleasure.” Then bluntly, he asked, “So are you two friends or just old classmates?”

Zuko, to his credit, didn't stammer and seemed to gain some confidence when met by this challenge. He seemed a lot more comfortable dealing with the mistrust from the older man than any history he and Katara may share.

“Excuse me,” a sharp voice interrupted. Pakku glided past Zuko like a cold breeze. He didn't even spare the boy a glance as he offered Katara a hand to stand. “We're in the middle of an important discussion, young man. If you wish to speak to my granddaughter you will have to better your timing.” white eyebrows formed a perfect line as he spoke. There was a threat in his words Katara thought she must be imagining since he had never been the type to lean towards overprotective. “Bato, come here.”

Katara noticed that her “uncle” was standing behind Zuko with his arms crossed and an amused smile during this exchange. The man dropped a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder and chuckled. “Don't worry, Katara is the scarier of the two.”

Zuko nodded, mumbling something Katara didn't quite catch. “I'll see you around then, Katara.”

Grampakku rolled his eyes and turned her body to the side. “Now, let's start with the shoulders. Do you see how much attention went into...”

Katara didn't speak throughout the entire discussion. She ate, watched Piandao beat her grandfather at pai sho, and then returned to her shared quarters with Song.

She closed her eyes and hoped to push Zuko out of her mind.

X X X X X X

It was quiet under the bleachers. Zuko had been the last person to wander around the field. Her sobbing had quieted down and he sat next to her now. Both miserable for different reasons.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you before.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It's just anytime I'm—after my mother died, after Sokka and I fought, and now after my first relationship ended you're there. Whenever I think about the pain I've dealt with at this school I think of you and your sister. I think of your face.”

“My face? I see.”

Katara sat up quickly and reached out to him. He felt so far away. “No, no. That's not what I mean.”

Zuko turned his face away as he spoke. All she could see was the wind shaking his hair. “It's okay. I used to think this scar marked me. The disgraceful son of a politician. An embarrassment never allowed home. But lately, I've realized I'm free to decide my own destiny. Even if I'll never be free of my mark.”

She knew her hand was on his shoulder, making her turn to face her. “Zuko, we may not be friends but I know you're more than your family gives you credit for. You're more than your scar.”

Embolden by the quiet around them, her hand moved up to the left side of his face. It didn't feel real. Her thumb touched his lip as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

For the first since they'd met Zuko wasn't just the kid on campus who took out his anger on anyone he saw below him. He was just another person with pain, hoping to move past the image his family had carved out for him.

She closed her eyes and leaned on him. His hand wrapped around her elbow, holding her steady. They didn't have to hate each other.

Her hand slid down to his neck.

She could hear his heart beat.

X X X X X X

Katara woke up the drumming sound of her alarm clock. After scrambling out of bed to turn it off she took and deep breath and closed her eyes. Her heart was still thundering from the memory.

It didn't seem she could shake the memory anytime soon. When she went to check on the horses, Aang was already their feeding them some of the fruit he'd snuck the night before and talking to them. He tried to talk to her about some of the jokes he'd been working on with Gyatso, but Katara kept getting lost in thought.

Luckily, Master Pakku showed up not long after. Aang gave them both hasty goodbyes and ran off. The old knight then got down to business listing off Katara's chores for the days and giving her some last minute advice about dealing with patrons. It was all so much she finally felt distracted enough to forget the nerves she got from last night's surprise.

Until, Master Pakku said, “Now, about last night.”

Now that they weren't around Master Piandao and without the worry of attracting attnetion to herself Katara groaned loudly and leaned against one of the stable doors. “We don't have to do this. I promise.”

“No, I think we do.” Grampakku said sternly. “Now, I know you are a strong young lady who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I learned that the hard way years ago.”

Katara nodded and crossed her arms. “Exactly. Glad o see you understand.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “But honestly, Katara. I am your grandfather—if only by marriage. I care about you. If a boy is bothering you, you shouldn't fear him so much you literally hide in armor.”

“But—“

“You could easily just let old Grampakku know and I can take of things.” Content with himself, he nodded and stood with a proud smirk. “Whether that means assuring you do not have to be around Iroh's nephew through some informed tweaks to your schedule.”

“Seriously, you don't--”

“Or, if necessary, some strong words to keep that deviant away from you.”

Katara gasped and shook her head quickly. “It's not that serious!”

A white eyebrow curved up in doubt. “Not that serious? My dear, you looked ready to run away when I returned with your uncle. Master Piandao tells me when you first saw the boy you looked terrified.”

She shoved her face in her hands. “Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed.”

A soft, comforting hand touched her shoulder. “No need for that. It's that boy who should be embarrassed. Your a respectable young lady and he clearly looks like trouble. How dare he try to—“

Katara jumped back quickly and shook her hands. “No, I'm serious. I knew him in high school. He wasn't being rude. It's just there's some...” The knight looked at her confused as she searched for the right word. “...history?”

“History?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly a look of dread passed over the man's face. “Katara, what kind of history?”

“No, nothing like that. I mean...maybe?”

Grampakku's voice went up an octave. “Maybe?”

“It's nothing!” She tried again. “I promise. I was just...surprised to see him again.”

He stood firmly, studying her as Master Piandao had the night before. “You can handle it?”

“I promise.”

X X X X X X

During lunch, she found herself at the Jasmine Dragon wringing her hands. If she was going to keep her promise she had to rip the Band-Aid off quick. Thanks to Song, Katara found out that Zuko was working with Iroh at the tea shop.

She smiled at the man kindly as she walked into the shop and took a seat. She caught sight of the scarred man taking orders nearby. He noticed her at the same time and gave her a weak smile.

Iroh came over after a moment with a fresh pot of tea a moment later.

“Oh, thank you.” Katara gave him a kind smile. “But I haven't ordered yet.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “It's on the house. White dragon tea. My nephew's favorite.”

She glanced over at Zuko who now looked a lot more nervous now that Iroh was at her table. “Nephew?”

The man nodded, there was a constant calm humor to him. “Yes. He tells me you two knew each other. You know he's changed quite a bit since then. He's learned to let go of the hatred that plagued him for so long.”

Katara watched as he poured the tea for her. Unsure of what to say to Iroh, she stayed quiet and took in what he was saying instead.

The tea barely moved inside the small cup as the man slid it to her. “Miss Katara, I don't tell you this gain your favor on his behalf. Did you know that the white dragon bush and white jade bush are two plants that look exactly the same? The white dragon bush produces a delicious tea that is heartbreaking.” He nodded at her to take a sip and she did.

The tea was warm and naturally sweet. It instantly made her feel a lot calmer.

“You see?” Iroh chuckled. “Delicious. The white jade bush on the other hand is poisonous. Both sprout beautiful gentle flowers but have vastly different uses. Once I had seen the flower on a trip and had delighted with the possibility of some of this world's best tea. But I wasn't sure if it was the white jade bush or the white dragon bush.” His laugh this time spread to Katara as she took another sip. “I sat in front of the bush wondering for so long which plant it was. I had two choices let my fears keep me from taking a leap of faith or...”

Despite herself, Katara smiled. Maybe Zuko was like that flower. Once he had brought her so much happiness and relief she forgot everything bad she associated him with. Maybe now he was more white dragon than white jade. Maybe.

Someone cleared their throat. “Uncle.”

The man nodded and stood. “Hello, nephew. I was just having a delightful conversation with the lovely paige, Katara here. Why don't you take your break right now? You can delight in her company as I have.”

She wasn't sure whether to protest or politely accept the compliment so she took another sip of tea as Zuko stammered after his uncle's retreating figure.

He sighed and took a seat in front of her. Katara tried not to laugh at his clearly red face. “Sorry about that. My uncle can be...” He made some frantic and frustrated hand movements. For a moment he seemed to forget the tension between them in favor for his annoyance with his uncle.

It didn't last long. When she set her cup down he immediately straightened up and struggled to say something. Her smile slipped at the reminder.

He coughed into his hand and looked away from her. “What were you two speaking about?”

Katara looked around the small shop in search of the man. He was at a table with two patrons who wore daisy crowns in their hair. “The white dragon bush.”

He snorted. “Did he mention he accidentally poisoned himself, then?”

Her eyes widened immediately. “What?”

Zuko rubbed his neck. “Guess not.”

They were both silent for a while again. The steam in her cup eventually disappeared completely.

She didn't like how unproductive this was all becoming.

“We should...” Katara cleared her throat as she felt it tighten. “We should talk.”

He sighed but nodded. Standing, he offered her his hand to stand. “Nothing quite like revisiting high school memories.”

She ignored his hand and stood on her own. “Yeah.”

Passing the crowds of people, Katara lead the way. Neither spoke as she wove through people, past Aunt Wu's tent, The Boulder's forge, until they got to a puppet show Aang was doing for kids near the tournament field. It was one of her favorite stories. The stories of the last two dragons, Ran and Shaw.

They stayed a bit away from the children, under a large tree with plenty of shade. Katara leaned against the trunk, her eyes on the puppet show as Zuko stood a short distance from her watching her.

“How do we start?” he asked.

Katara laughed humorlessly. “I have no clue. We should have talked about this years ago.”

He nodded.

Aang made the two constructed figures dance around each other in a circle with impressive ease. The blue dragon's scales shone silver and the red dragon's shone gold. Opposites. Yin and Yang. Much like Tui and La.

“How about, 'we kissed and never talked afterward.'” She turned to look at him at such a direct statement. “And then I would say, 'I'm sorry I was too scared to talk to you first. I haven't stopped regretting the rest of that year.'”

A knot twisted in her gut and she looked down. “You regretted it?”

Leaves rustled as he took a step closer. “No. Not...” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I—I want us to be okay.”

“We were. I trusted you. I kissed you. But then...” Her elbows pressed into the cracked trunk of the tree as she pushed away from him. Beside them Aang talked about the last dragon egg. “You didn't say a word to me afterward. I felt like an idiot.”

“Katara,” he spoke softly. “Katara, you had just broken up with Jet. Again.”

She rolled her eyes at the excuse and looked back up at him. When she looked in his eyes she saw the sad golden glow from last night again.

Then, as if the words were ripping their way out of his throat he said, “I...I liked you.”

The kids screamed as Aang got into the bit of the story where knights, royalty, and wizards who could shoot fire from their hands tried to steal the egg.

“I never regretted kissing you. I never thought I could and then you chose me.” He looked down. “But you had just ended something and I was scared. I was scared you wouldn't choose me after. So I didn't say anything.”

A girl in the audience cheered as the red dragon saved the blue dragon and their egg from a powerful wizard.

Katara took a step forward. Bits of bark broke off as she moved away from the tree. “I should have said something.” Her fingers ached to reach out to him but he felt so far away. “I was scared too. I'm sorry, Zuko.” And as she admitted it she knew it was true.

Zuko took a step forward and his face gained strength. “When I saw you yesterday I was nervous, but it felt like...”

“A second chance?”

He smiled. “I hope so.”

The dragons twisted around each other again. Dancing from one side of the small stage to the other in perfect harmony.

Katara felt something at her fingertips, and when she looked down she saw him intertwine their fingers. She smiled too. Their was only one way for her to know if he was the white dragon flower or the white jade flower. 

It was time for a leap of faith, all it took was a bit of bravery.

She pulled him close and pressed her face into his chest. As his arms wound around her she felt his chest heave with a relieved sigh. Katara closed her eyes and listened to his heart beat thunder in tandem with her own.

The play ended with a round of applause.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Zutara Week everyone!


End file.
